Behind the Brotherhood
by rahrah483
Summary: When the Mercers locate to Odessa, will the boys' lives ever be the same again, or will a secret allow them to learn what's really behind the brotherhood? WARNING-POSSIBLE SLASH, DEFINATE ADULT LANGUAGE. If swearing offends you; don't read. Sorry :
1. Chapter 1

When I was little, I used to live in Detroit. My foster Mom was Evelyn Mercer, I always loved her and she always had a bunch of kids around too, which was always great for me because it was like they were my brothers and sisters. It was a bright, sunny, summer day and I was impatient to see her adopted sons Bobby, Jeremiah, and Angel. I was just a little kid, I had light brown hair, blazing green eyes, and I tended to wear overalls a lot more then was considered good.

I never questioned about my parents because I never needed to. My mom wasn't there and neither was my dad but I didn't care since I had Evelyn to take care of me.

When I stormed home one day, I heard them upstairs playing, but I ran into the kitchen instead as I heard Evelyn had been calling me.

"Donnie!" I heard her yelling. I ran down the hallway and into the kitchen. A small, shaky boy was standing there, watching her as she placed his tiny bag down.

"This is Jack." She explained. "Do you remember him?"

I studied the other boy closely and realised that I did. I remembered him from a time before this life I was now living.

"Yes." I breathed. "I remember him. Can I show Jack the park?"

She nodded and I smiled, walking out the door with the other on my tail. Once we were there, He took my hand lightly and I pulled him to the top of the huge red slide that Bobby and I climbed up all of the time.

"Faggots." A deep voice rumbled and I looked up to see Chase Michaels staring up at me and Jack from the ground. He was the same age as Bobby and a real thug.

"Piss off." I snarled, puffing out my chest, and tilting my head back as I tried to imitate Bobby.

"No seriously." He laughed. "You're holding hands. What's up with that?"

"He's my new friend." I shouted, kicking Chase in the head. He swore and grabbed my foot, pulling me down off the play equipment.

I wrestled with him and eventually he let go. I smiled up at Jack, cowering on the platform.

"No one ever wins in a fight against me." I grinned. "Bobby taught me all this moves, and no one messes with the Michigan Mauler."

"Who?" he asked softly. I groaned.

"So much for you to learn." I teased, grabbing him and pulling him into a headlock. Jack squirmed and bucked, clawing at me until I released him. He stood, angry, as his chest heaved in and out.

"What'd you do that for?" I growled, dabbing at my cut neck. "I was only playin'"

"I don't know…my dad usta hurt me a lot…" he explained, trying to calm down.

"Oh." I murmured. "Well, Evelyn and I will take care of you." I stared into his green eyes and a spark of promise flowed.

"The fuck?" Chase asked, staring up at us. "Ya'll are fuckin' twins."

I bristled uncomfortably.

"Shut your fuckin' mouth, bitch." I hollered. "You don't know what you're talking about…what's a twin?"

"You don't know?" he jeered, striding away. "Ask you mom."

"C'mon." I grabbed Jack's unsure hand as we ran for home.

"Evelyn?" I yelled as we ran in the door. "Where are you?"

"In the living room. Please bring Jack in too." She called quietly. I knew something was wrong the minute we walked in. She was sitting on the couch, facing a man with thinning brown hair and a cold expression on his face. Next to him was Marie, the social worker. My heart thudded painfully.

"Dad?" Jack whispered, retreating into his shell. I looked over at him and felt him begin to shake a little bit. So I put my arm around his shoulders protectively.

"You must be Don." The man said, completely ignoring Jack.

"Yeah. Who the fuck are you?" I asked defiantly and his eyes lit up as he laughed.

"Cute kid." He nodded to me. "Mouth like a trooper."

"What are you doing here? Asking me all these questions?" I shouted, sensing how scared Jack was. It didn't make me sad…it made me annoyed…

"I'm gonna take you home with me to Texas." He said. "You're Don Billinsley and I'm your dad."

"No, you're not." I answered. "You're Jack's dad."

"Yeah." The man smiled. "And yours. His name is Jack Billinsley and he's your brother. Your twin."

"What's that?" I asked, sniffing unsurely. "What's a twin?"

I turned to Evelyn who was sitting ridged. Her face was pale and she looked sad.

"A twin is either of two people born to the same mother at the same time….so you are the same age and you look the same because you are identical twins." She said.

I nodded and stared at Jack, seeing for myself the similarities in our faces. We both had hair that was long, yet short at the same time. He had big green eyes, their shade matching mine and he was thin and tall, just like me.

"So what does that mean?" I asked softly.

"It means that Jack will stay here and you will come home to Odessa with me." My father told me and I felt myself begin to panic.

"What about Jack?" I begged. "Is he Comin'?"

"No." the man said firmly glaring at his son. "He's gonna stay here with her."

"But I want to, too." I wailed. "I want to stay with Evelyn."

"It ain't gonna happen." The man snorted. "We made an agreement and you're commin' with me…it's my right as your father."

"You ain't my dad." I snarled. "I hate you."

"Like hell you do." He laughed, pulling me in real close. "You ain't seen nothin' yet."

"Ma!" My wailing screams filled the air.

"Ma! Evelyn, please don't make me go!" I screamed pitifully. "I'll be good and never swear again…I'll even call you Ma like you want me too…see I am…please?"

"Donnie boy, come on now" Evelyn soothed "Hush now, take deep breaths sweetie"

Evelyn, without moving forward, held out her hands and began to shush me, trying to soothe me even as she shook with sobs.

Jack was there, standing next to her, tears dripping down his face as he watched me scream and struggle, trying to break free…

I was placed in the back of Charlie Billinsley's car and off I was driven, away from the only life I ever knew. I vowed never to forget, but children soon do…


	2. Chapter 2

"Heads Billinsley"

Twisting my lithe, nineteen year old body into the air, I caught the football as it careened down, heading for my face. With no trouble, I yanked it from the sky and threw it back to Chavez Johnston, squinting in the late Texan sunlight.

"Next time," I rumbled, deep voice echoing. "Next time, No warning, Ok?"

"Ok." Chavez grinned, getting into his white car and speeding away. I smiled at the empty field, glad to be alone. It was the prefect time to think…and to practice…

Throwing the ball out into the end zone, I silently cheered as the ball rammed down onto the earth, scoring a touch down.

"Hey, Billinsley?" a voice twanged and I spun around to see Coach Gaines walking towards me.

"Yes Sir?" I coughed loudly, hoping to hide my embarrassment about being caught doing something so childish.

"It's past nine…Shouldn't you be getting' on home?" Coach Gaines's smile was unwelcome.

"Yeah, I'm goin' there now." I muttered, stalking away. I felt his eyes on my back and I shuddered at the thought of seeing my drunken father.

"Have a good night." The coach called and I scowled angrily.

"Whatever." I spat. "As if I can."

"What was that?" his voice sounded irritated and I knew not to push it.

"Nothing. I said, you too, sir." I lied, knowing he knew.

"I fucking told you we needed milk." My father Charlie's voice sounded harsh and slurred, testament to his drinking. We were standing in the living room, where he had been waiting for me. It was all quiet except for the whir of a fan in his room.

"I'm sorry." I simpered, hating myself for being so weak.

"You're sorry?" he repeated, eyes glowing with anger. "That's it?"

"All the shops were closed." I answered, turning the football in my hands. "I'll get some tomorrow."

"You'll get some tomorrow." Dad said again, smiling serenely. "Well…that makes it ok then."

I turned to leave.

"Donnie?" Charlie called softly and I felt myself tense up. I didn't trust him for a second.

"Yeah Dad?" I asked, turning slightly. "What?"

I felt a hard fist hit the side of my cheek and I gasped, hearing the sound echo.

"When I fucking tell you to do something, you fucking do it?" Dad screamed, throwing me back against the couch. "You fucking can't play football so don't fucking let me down in life."

"Fine." I snarled, waiting for him to leave so I could pick myself back up. I watched as he stumbled out and I yanked myself up. I walked into the kitchen and as soon as the door closed, crouched down by the wall, shaking. Taking in several shaky breaths, I swore as hot tears prickling under my eyelids.

"I can't let him win." I breathed as I crammed a fist against my mouth, forcing the sounds back. "I can't let him see me cry."

I kept myself curled up tight, fighting a losing battle with my emotions. As tears dripped down my cheeks, I just kept my head to my knees, rocking to self-comfort. After a while, I felt better and I stood shakily, dragging myself into my room.

I sat down on my bed and stared at myself in the mirror. I had spiky light brown hair, longish in back, to the nape of my neck, and jutting up in all directions at the front. Pale skin made my bright green eyes stand out even more noticeably. The tears that stained my cheeks slipped over the pale skin, dripping over the purple bruise that grew on my flesh, dipping painfully onto my bottom lip on the left-hand side.

"I hate him." I whispered, staring at my feral eyes. "I hate him."

"Billingsley?" Gaines asked me, Friday night football.

"Yeah?" I groaned. Everyone stared down at me as I lay on the damned paramedics table. Some fucker had dislocated my shoulder and I was waiting to have it popped back in.

"Do you think you can still play?" he asked and I looked over at my replacement, a runt sophomore who knew nothing about anything.

"Just fucking watch me." I breathed, crying out as the attendant snapped the bone back into the socket, the pop echoing loudly.

I cradled my arm to my chest and exhaled noisily, looking up into the stands. My gaze caught on my fathers' and he shook his head, disgusted. I felt a rush of ignorance run through me and I snarled, pulling on my helmet and running onto the field.

"Hey, Jack!" A deep voice boomed and I whipped my head around to see a short, stocky man run towards me. He wore leather Bomber Jacket, in a dark chocolate brown, over a black T-shirt and charcoal undershirt. He wore baggy jeans, a deep blue- almost black colour with a chain dangling from the font pocket around to one of the back ones. Chunky, thick-soled boots completed his attire while a thin leather choker bearing a tiny cross wound itself around his neck peeping out over his shirt. He had brown hair, long and straight, pulled back from his face. Light stubble coated his dimpled chin giving him a gangsta façade. Sceptical hazel eyes stared menacingly out from underneath sharp eyebrows.

It was after the game, and Chavez, Mike Witchell and Christian were sitting a few feet away, at the diner. I had just got up to get a coke when this complete fucker came runnin' up to me calling me Jack.

"Who the fuck are you?" I snarled, unsure of who Jack was.

"Don't get fucking smart with me, you little fucking fairy." The guy chuckled. "I just wanna know how the fuck you managed to get down here so fast. I thought you were going to the bathroom Jack."

"My name isn't Jack." I said annoyed. "It's Don Billingsley, asshole."

I bristled as the man peered closer and watched as his eyes widened in comprehension.

"Shit, sorry." He apologised. "I'm Bobby Mercer and you looked like my brother."

"The infamous Jack, right?" I asked dryly, ignoring the fact that the man's name tweaked uncomfortably at some lost thought in my memories.

"Yeah." He frowned, thinking hard. "How old are you?"

"Nineteen." I breathed, turning away. "I hope you find your brother."

"Yeah, me too." Bobby said walking away. "Sorry about that."

"Jerk." I snarled, watching as he stalked away.

"What was that about?" Mike asked as he walked back up.

"I dunno." I shrugged. "That guy just told me I look like his brother, Jack …he thought I was Jack."

"Maybe he just did it to crack onto you." Boobie laughed and I felt my jaw tighten momentarily. "You are pretty girly."

"Fuck you, Boobie." I spat, storming away.

"Yo, party at the Red room! You better be there, Billingsley! Gonna get wasted…party at Red's. Billingsley!" the guy screamed as his car roared away. I smiled at Christian who was staring at me quizzing.

"Tom. Know him through my dad." I explained needlessly.

"What's the Red Room?" Mike asked cautiously. "A club."

"I nodded.

"Wanna go?" I offered. "We just won the game, boys, let's go out and celebrate."

"Fine." The trio sighed and I grinned, leading the way back to our cars.

The music was loud and I felt my tension lift slightly as I stepped into the crowded club. People were writhing and swaying and more then one beautiful girl rubbed up on me as I made my way to the bar.

"A bottle of Budweiser." I demanded and smiled when I received. "Thanks."

Sculling it quickly, I turned away and stalked out, staking one girl as mine and rubbing myself up against her. Her boyfriend snarled and threw me back.

I growled angrily, adrenaline running through me as I stared up at the larger man. He was ugly…he didn't deserve someone like her.

I drew my fist back to punch him and Mike ran up, intercepting the hit with a loud grunt.

"You can't, Billinsley." He reminded me. "Coach already got you on probation for fightin'. Another one and you're off the team." His accent twanged and I felt my teeth clench as I stormed away.


End file.
